TheRealTamara

The walk-in shower

A visit to a friend whose walk-in shower was enviably better appointed than the one I had had installed was a reminder of why I ordered mine. I had hopes that it would make life easier for Burt after his stay in rehab. Bathfitters made quick work of replacing the tub with the easy accessContinue reading “The walk-in shower”

Dreaming

My friend wondered where our dreamscapes come from when I shared my dream with her. My dream of Burt, probably lastTh or Fr was meant to be noted on the following morning. I forgot to write it down then. When I did recall it, it struck me as odd, funny and pleasant. We wanted toContinue reading “Dreaming”

I remember

There is a phenomenon of memory that I am just now observing. It feels like it happens backwards. Let me clarify if I can: I am not drawn to act on the memory, rather it coincidentally comes to me as I go about doing what I would do. But, what I do is not coincidental.Continue reading “I remember”

Grief, grieving

Is it possible to turn grief into grievance? I accept that grieving has no timeline; I don’t want to shoo my grief away. In a way, it’s my grief that honors Burt. So what am I talking about? Is it the sense that long term grief is a kind of wallowing? Yes, that is partContinue reading “Grief, grieving”

We used to….

Times Square was often our jumping off point to nearby theaters, like, but not limited to, the Hayes below. My weekend took me to this part of the world where so many of the paths I took were filled with memories. Every memory came quickly to my attention, and then gave me a long momentContinue reading “We used to….”

I was safe. I thought I was safe.

The above is a prompt from Wild Heart’s Miribai Starr- well the second half is. She is guiding the grief workshop to which I am listening. It debunks some myths about grieving. [Wild Heart and Holy Lament, a grief community, is led by Miribai and Willow Brook.] I thought I was safe; it’s not theContinue reading “I was safe. I thought I was safe.”

Laugh, love, remember

Honoring those we love who have died is not a matter of constant sorrow. I was in a speakeasy Friday night, having fun watching the young, and, yes, being honored by them. [See “You are icons.” Prohibitions is back, baby.] Intentionality, my awkward word for mindfulness, makes it essential to laugh while grieving. This isContinue reading “Laugh, love, remember”

Why am I?

Why are we so obsessed with the end, with being there when our loved one passes? I say “we,” but I am asking “Why am I reliving the end?” Why am I upset that I was not on the scene when Burt died? I say “we” because I think it’s a universal distress. I wasn’tContinue reading “Why am I?”

Re-telling

It seems that I am covering the same ground in my posts lately. A few from the last couple of days, in commemoration of six months since Burt’s passing, repeat many stories I have told you. Some of those are running on a loop, looking for answers. I know there are no answers and thatContinue reading “Re-telling”

Passing

When Burt died, our aide and I checked for a pulse. I took the mirror, thanks to my slight acquaitance with Shakespeare to see if he was breathing. Then, I called his GCP at WCM Center on Aging. I wanted EMTs from a familiar place rather than 911 to tend to the final pronouncement. ItContinue reading “Passing”